Funds for Terrorists, Crumbs for Cops: Minnesota’s Somali Scandal Is Accelerating Police Exodus From Blue State

Minnesota’s streets are growing more dangerous by the day, with police officers stretched thin and crime rates that refuse to budge. Yet while everyday folks foot the bill for basic protection, a sprawling fraud scandal has allegedly funneled millions in state welfare dollars straight to Al-Shabaab, the al-Qaida-linked terror group terrorizing Somalia. It’s a betrayal that leaves law enforcement without the resources to fight back, and hardworking families wondering how their money ended up bankrolling bloodshed halfway around the world.

The rot runs deep. A November report in City Journal laid bare how Somali-American networks in the Twin Cities exploited programs like the Child Care Assistance Program and federal meal initiatives, siphoning off tens of millions—perhaps billions—meant for vulnerable kids and families. Providers ballooned from 41 to 328 in just a few years, a 700% spike that screamed fraud.

Federal counterterrorism sources, speaking anonymously, confirmed the cash trail: suitcases stuffed with bills flown out of Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, routed through Seattle to Somali hawala networks, and ultimately landing with militants. “The largest funder of Al-Shabaab is the Minnesota taxpayer,” one source put it bluntly.

This is the fallout from years of lax oversight under Democratic leadership. The Feeding Our Future scandal alone saw nearly 80 defendants charged with ripping off $250 million in pandemic meal funds. But the deeper probe reveals a pattern: remittances wired home, then diverted to extremists.

U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent kicked off a federal investigation in early December, blasting the “feckless mismanagement of the Biden Administration and Governor Tim Walz.” On X, he vowed to act fast “to ensure Americans’ taxes are not funding acts of global terror.” House Oversight Chairman James Comer followed suit, demanding documents from Walz on what his team knew—and why they did nothing to stop the bleed.

House Majority Whip Tom Emmer, representing swaths of this fraud-riddled state, didn’t mince words in a letter to U.S. Attorney Daniel Rosen. “Minnesota has become the land of 10,000 frauds under Tim Walz. Now, reports have uncovered that these stolen taxpayer dollars are funding Al-Shabaab terrorists,” he wrote. “This is not only a grave national security concern, it’s a slap in the face to the hardworking, law-abiding people of Minnesota.”

Even across the border, Wisconsin Rep. Tom Tiffany warned his state against repeating the mistake, calling out Minnesota’s “staggering $1 billion” scheme as a cautionary tale of unchecked spending on food security programs.

On the ground, the consequences hit hardest where it matters: public safety. St. Paul Police Federation President Mark Ross paints a grim picture of a force on the brink. “We’ve been down anywhere from 50 to over 100 officers since 2020, and we just haven’t recovered from that. Right now we’re about a thousand police officers short in the state of Minnesota, and we’re on pace to lose another 2,000 to 2,500 over the next few years,” Ross said.

Those gaps mean slower responses, burnout, and emboldened criminals. Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension data for 2024 bears it out: 170 murders, 75% involving firearms; carjackings up 5.5%; rapes climbing 5.2%; assaults on officers rising 1.5%. In the seven-county Twin Cities metro, violent crime ticked up 1%—a modest number that masks the fear gripping neighborhoods.

Randy Sutton, a veteran cop and founder of The Wounded Blue, sees ideology at the root.

“The public safety is at risk… we are in a criminal justice crisis in America. Political leadership is destroying public safety through their ideology,” he charged.

Officers now dread the brass more than the bad guys: “Officers are more afraid of their own leadership than of the criminal element and that is the saddest part of this whole story.”

Nationally, over 85,000 cops were assaulted last year, with one shot every single day. In Minnesota, the chill is palpable—some departments underreport to the FBI, skewing the stats and leaving the public in the dark.

“People are afraid to even report crime… and some police agencies aren’t reporting to the FBI. The figures are skewed. We don’t even have an accurate picture of violent crime,” Sutton added.

Governor Walz’s camp pushes back hard, touting the “largest public safety budget in state history” with investments in every department, a new State Patrol headquarters, and a crime lab. Minnesota ranks among the safest states, they say, and the fraud hit federal programs like Medicaid, not local cop paychecks.

But Ross calls foul: “These billions of dollars could have been spent on public safety, but it’s gone… and we’ll never see that money again.” One-time cash infusions won’t fix chronic shortages, he argues. “Those are all projects that need to be done, but what we’re looking for is continued funding all the time. Not one-time funding.” And on the fraud’s origins? “You can’t frame things that way. It all comes from the same pool of money. Those are tax dollars.”

The timing stinks of deeper questions. Walz’s rise, from obscure congressman to Kamala Harris’s running mate, rode a wave of feel-good diversity politics in a state with the nation’s largest Somali diaspora. Yet warnings echoed for years—a 2019 state audit couldn’t “substantiate” terror links but admitted it was “possible” funds slipped overseas.

Federal prosecutors have nailed dozens of Minnesotans for Al-Shabaab and ISIS ties, but only now, with Trump back in the White House, does the full scope get airtime. Is this just incompetence, or something more deliberate—a blind eye turned to secure votes in a key bloc? The silence from Democrats speaks volumes; even as Comer presses for answers, Walz shrugs off the probe, welcoming it only if ties prove out. Meanwhile, cops like those in St. Paul grind on, outnumbered and outgunned.

Fixing this demands real leadership, not press releases. Pump ongoing funds into recruitment and retention. Claw back every stolen dime through aggressive prosecutions. And audit every welfare program with a fine-tooth comb—no more trust, just verification. Minnesotans deserve streets where kids can play without fear, not a system where their lunch money arms jihadists.

As Ross puts it, “It all starts with leadership, political leadership, department leadership, union leadership. We need people to get up and lead.” Until then, the crisis festers, one diverted dollar at a time.